04 | 1996

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A / N

Am I punctual or what? Anyway, this will be a good time to leave a gentle PG-13 warning in my story. That is, if you're below thirteen, you should not be reading this. Astoria is much, much more mature than my other stories, and for good reason.

That being said, did you know the rationale behind my new cast for Hermione? Some say she looks a little like Bellatrix, and yes—that was my intention! Hermione in Draconian was in a pretty depressed, deranged place, having suffered for years like Bellatrix did. And I think it's a good parallel to show how easily Hermione could've embraced Dark magic, like Bellatrix did, but didn't. So, here you have it—

Sasha Kichigina as Hermione Granger

Sasha Kichigina as Hermione Granger

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x Noelle

  

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HER HANDS SHAKE as she shrugs her thick wool coat on. This night feels colder than most, but not because of the weather. This dream—this nightmare—she's had is like none other. It's not the kind she sometimes has—of her pet cat Polaris being eaten alive by her sister's stupid owl or having Draco Malfoy and the other Slytherin boys bully her the way they do any Muggleborns.

This one is different because it's a Vision.

She lifts her cat out from the basket and puts her on the bed. Then she draws the blanket over Polaris to pass off as a human underneath the covers. Her cat doesn't react, save to snuggle deeper. No one notices her sneak out of the room.

Remnants of her dream still burn beneath her eyelids. She wants to wander the hallways until she's properly cold and tired enough to forget all about it. She walks briskly down two long hallways, hoping that Filch's cat doesn't catch her, then turns the corner to a third.

Strange sounds make her pause.

They come from a classroom opposite. She clutches her coat tighter around herself and goes to investigate. As she nears, the sounds grow louder. Heavy breaths; whispered words... A moan?

She freezes.

The classroom is dark and empty, save for the two people in there. Moonlight flits through the window, bathing them in an almost ethereal glow, and making them impossible not to recognise. She's never seen Ronald Weasley in any state of undress before. But his shirt's been discarded on the floor; pants unzipped and hanging low on his hips. For a moment, her eyes are drawn to his tall, lean form. The muscles ripple along his back as he moves, and there's a clear strength in his arms as he braces himself over—

Her heart sinks as bile rises to her throat. Beneath him, a naked Lavender Brown writhes and moans loud enough to draw half the school over. Astoria must've made some kind of sound, because the next moment, both Gryffindors snap their heads to her.

Ron's eyes grow wide. "Oh, fuck, Astoria?"

She flinches at the sound of her name and stumbles back.

"Shite, Astoria, wait—"

Lavender cuts him off with a giggle. "What's the big deal, Won-Won? It's not like she gets any from the other boys anyway. Let her watch so she'll know what it's like."

"Shut up! Astoria, ignore her, she doesn't mean that. Wait, hold on—"

She's already halfway out into the hallway when she hears distant footsteps. Not from inside, but from around the corner. Her eyes widen and she falters. Someone else is coming. Behind her, Ron dashes out of the classroom and she whirls around.

"Astoria!" He braces a hand on the open door of the classroom. His pants are properly zipped back up; his shirt unbuttoned as it hangs loosely on his frame. He drags a hand through his tousled hair and reaches for her. "Don't go. Just— Let me...let me walk you back to your tower—"

"That won't be necessary, Mr Weasley."

Astoria briefly shuts her eyes in resignation at the familiar voice. Professor Snape. Ron swears under his breath as the Head of Slytherin heads towards them. Professor Snape's eyes narrow as he looks first at her, then his features harden when he turns to the Gryffindor.

"Just what do you think you're doing to one of my Slytherins, Mr Weasley?" he asks, his voice icy.

"I—uh, nothing, it's—"

Lavender Brown chooses that moment to appear by the doorway; her uniform still rumpled and hair in complete disarray. "Won-Won, where did you—" She stops dead in her tracks and lets out a mousy shriek. "P-pro-professor—"

"Indeed," Professor Snape drawls flatly. The Slytherin in Astoria almost smirks at that. The students in the other houses might hate her biased Head of House, but he's also the only one who ever sticks up for the Slytherins when they need him. "Mr Weasley, it seems that your little rendezvous with Miss Brown has cost you thirty points each and a month's worth of detention with me. Not Filch, as you were clearly hoping for. And an additional twenty points for trying to debase one of my Slytherins. Come, Miss Greengrass."

She follows Snape without a backward glance. The walk back to her room is silent and brisk as she tries to keep up with the Professor. But her mind is still back in the empty classroom, reeling from the unexpected turn of events. She tells herself it doesn't matter.

It doesn't.

It's not like she even fancies Ron that much. He's just a nice boy and one of the better Gryffindors. At least he doesn't hate her for being Slytherin, or like her for being a Greengrass. Besides, she's seen him with Hermione Granger a lot and she's always figured they're a couple anyway.

But did it have to be Lavender Brown of all people?

Even Blaise Zabini wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole, and he's known to touch anything that's female, willing and into boys. Lavender Brown is attention-seeking and vain and everything that Astoria's mum taught her never to be in a woman. And to think Ron chose that?

She wishes she'd never seen that Vision.

She presses the back of her hand to her cheek and is startled to find it wet with tears. When did she start crying? She sniffles and brushes her hand roughly against her eyes. Snape clears his throat, and she flushes when she realises she's been caught.

"Boys at every age are fools, Miss Greengrass," he says unexpectedly, his low voice gentler than she's ever heard before. "They are hardly worth your tears. But true Sight lasts through time and age. Perhaps it would be wiser to focus your attention on this gift you have."

She stops and blinks up at him. How does he know...? "Sir?"

"Come, Miss Greengrass. I believe some Dreamless Sleep potion is in order, but not before you tell the Headmaster everything you've Seen in your dreams tonight."

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